How one works out what to eat, or not to eat, where, is a real problem. In certain countries, for instance, beef or pork might be the subject of prohibitions, religious or alimentary. I imagine similar worries about guineapig or dogmeat.
Antibes, to name somewhere close to home, has a couple of horse butcheries which have set my mouth watering.
On my trip around Europe, for instance, we passed some time in Mantova (Mantua), where we ate really well at the Leoncino rosso, an inn which has been in the same place for hundreds of years. The BH ate a main course of rabbit with local olives, but I had dobbin stew. As horse goes, it was awesome, cooked to perfection, and a perfect lesson that what one eats can be anything, as long as it is well prepared. Mind you, the accompanying wine helped a lot, probably. In any case, old horsey did me proud.
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